


can't get you out of my veins

by paintedpomp



Series: all my barriers are going [2]
Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infidelity, July 4th, M/M, Vaginal Sex, abuse of real events for angst purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedpomp/pseuds/paintedpomp
Summary: “Sorry babe,” she whispered into his ear. “I’m just drunk and grumpy.”Jon wound his arms around her tightly.“That’s ok, Em,” he said back. “Love you.”Emily said it back, and Tommy only half frowned at him over her shoulder.Jon thought about how he’d had his dick in Lovett again three days ago.
Relationships: Emily Black Favreau/Jon Favreau, Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett
Series: all my barriers are going [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612042
Comments: 13
Kudos: 26





	can't get you out of my veins

**Author's Note:**

> Working title: 4th of trash
> 
> This is fake as hell, apologies to these beautiful people whose lives I enjoy making stressful and sordid.

“Do you want another beer, hon?” Emily asked with a smile.

She was pissed at him. She only ever called him hon when she was angry, otherwise it was “babe” and “baby” all the way down.

“That’d be great, thanks Em,” he said. He pushed his sunglasses farther up his nose and didn’t watch as she sauntered back into the house, the slide of the back door wafting the air-conditioned air over him. 

Tommy shot him a look, but Jon just shrugged. He didn’t know why she was angry this time, but he knew why she should be, and that was enough to keep him from starting an argument in front of her family. 

Hanna put a hand on Tommy’s knee and slipped into the house after Emily, a tight smile at Jon as she slipped past, sliding the door shut behind her with a final suction.

He thought they’d been okay, before she left for Maine. He thought they’d been honest with each other. Tender again, like they hadn’t been since before the wedding. But she must have found something lacking in him in the two days since he’d joined her.

Tommy glanced down to where some of the kids were playing with the dogs on the lawn, then shifted into Emily’s seat next to Jon. Tommy was his best friend in the world. Jon wished anyone else was next to him right now. 

“Everything okay?” Tommy said, instead of just coming out and asking the question Jon knew he wanted to.

Jon shut his eyes, and wondered if it was possible to carry someone else’s body on you. Even if you’d been so careful not to leave marks, if you’d showered three times since they’d left your house. 

“Jon—“ Tommy said, but then the door suctioned open again like someone pursing their lips, and Judge Black came out and handed the two of them a beer each. 

“I’ve been sent forth with gifts,” he said. “Looks like the girls need a little bit of shade, especially Em, she’s red as anything.”

“Oh no,” Jon said, “is she okay?” He made like he was going to get up, was relieved and unsurprised when Judge Black said “Oh she’s fine,” and he could sink back into his seat.

“East coast heat’s not like West coast heat,” Jon said. “It’s harder to cool down.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “But nothing beats DC for humidity, remember the time—“ and then they were off, spouting stories about the shitty aircon at 1309 and trying to stay cool while working in a suit. Eventually Emily and Hanna came back with some fresh cut watermelon, and Emily slipped into Jon’s lap and kissed the side of his head and he felt everything he always had for her, just a visceral, overwhelming love. 

“Sorry babe,” she whispered into his ear. “I’m just drunk and grumpy.” 

Jon wound his arms around her tightly. 

“That’s ok, Em,” he said back. “Love you.” 

Emily said it back, and Tommy only half frowned at him over her shoulder. 

“Are we going anywhere for fireworks, or can you see them from here?” Hanna asked Judge Black. 

Jon nuzzled his face into Emily’s shoulder. She leaned back against him and laid her head on his.

Jon thought about how he’d had his dick in Lovett again three days ago. 

“You can see them from here, but they’re better from the water,” Judge Black said. “Our neighbor has a big old boat, he’s offered to take us all out.”

Jon had gotten Lovett on all fours then fucked him from behind, pulled him up so his chest was flush with Lovett’s back as he jerked him to completion, made him lick the come off his hand—

Emily shifted onto his half-hard dick, raised her eyebrows at him but didn’t move.

“Call me weak,” she said, “but I have to take a nap before anymore festivities. Interested, Jon?”

“Very,” he said, and let her pull him inside.

In the guest bedroom, he slipped off her panties, pushed her face first into the bed, and ate her out from behind till she was whimpering. 

He wondered what Lovett would do if he was here. Probably bolt at the sight of pussy. Jon shook his head. This was his fantasy scenario, what would he want Lovett to do?

Maybe he’d suck Jon’s dick before he slid it inside Emily. Jon jacked his cock a few times instead and pressed inside, loving the way Emily hid her squeal in her hand.

Maybe Lovett would get on his knees behind him and eat Jon out like he’d been doing to Emily. His hips stuttered inside Emily and he got his fingers on her clit to make up for it. 

Would Jon like that? Would he want that? 

He was open-minded and stuff; some of his best friends were gay, as Lovett liked to say, but he’d always operated under the default assumption that his own ass was off limits. He didn’t know now. What if Lovett slipped a finger in while Jon fucked Emily. What if Lovett fucked Jon?

He came without warning, pulling out halfway through to come on Emily’s back. She hated the cleanup of come dripping out of her, and Jon couldn’t really say he blamed her. 

He wondered how it would feel to have Lovett’s come was dripping out of him.

Jon wiped Emily off with a tissue, put her on her back and ate her out till she came two more times. He was a good husband, like that. 

She passed out and he slipped into the shower, turned it to lukewarm and washed everything off himself one more time. 

He had a text from Lovett in the group chat with Tommy, just a picture of Pundit in a flag bandana and shades in the park captioned “my dog’s more patriotic than your dog.” Jon wished Leo were here. He thought about texting his parents asking them to dress Leo up so he could upstage Lovett, but then thought better of it and texted back, “That has to be in violation of the flag code.”

Tommy was in the living room when he got down there. Jon sat next to him as Lovett texted them both back a picture of Tommy in full flag-regalia with no other comment.

They both laughed, because it was funny, because it was Lovett. They went silent as Tommy sent Lovett back a frowny face, and Jon watched Tommy flush redder and redder with not asking the question. 

“It happened again,” he finally said, because Tommy was his best friend and because Tommy looked like he was going to explode if he didn’t bring it up. 

“Fuck,” Tommy said back.

“You guys really shouldn’t go out of town,” Jon said.

“It really shouldn’t matter where your wife is, Jon.” Tommy said sourly. 

“Nope.” Jon wanted to talk about it, really talk about what it meant that he had known Lovett for ten years before he started periodically losing his mind and fucking him, but he couldn’t here. Maybe when they got back, Tommy would drag all three of them for another founder’s meeting heart-to-heart, like he did when he found out about the first time. It had worked, at the time. He and Lovett went back to normal, hadn’t fucked for five whole months, and Jon had buried his guilt about it and been a good husband.

Jon wondered if he buried it too far down, because he couldn’t seem to find it now.

It was killing Tommy though, he knew, to keep the secret from Hanna, who would tell Emily in a second and also probably cut his balls off. 

He and Lovett had been having so much fun, was the thing. Emily had been gone for a week by the time Lovett got back from vacation, Ronan took off for New York two days later, and then Tommy left with Hanna and it was just the two of them again, in Jon’s house high as kites fucking on the couch. And the bed. And in the shower.

Lovett had stayed for two days and neither of them pretended they weren’t going to fuck again the second one of them could get it up. They made out like teenagers while cooking eggs in the morning and set the fire alarm off. Jon made Lovett teach him how to suck dick until he succeeded in getting Lovett to come in his mouth. 

“Ronan will use his teeth a little, like this,” Lovett had said, and demonstrated on Jon’s fingers.

“Emily loves getting fingered while I eat her out,” Jon had said. “Can I do that to you?”

“You’re being a fucking dumbass,” Tommy said, looking at Jon. 

“I know how you feel, Tommy,” Jon said.

“Oh, well thank God you know how I feel, that’s helpful,” Tommy said.

“I’m really sorry I told you,” Jon said, and he meant it. “I know what kind of position it puts you in.”

Tommy looked at him like he was the world’s biggest dumbass, but didn’t say anything as Hanna slipped into the room and collapsed on the couch. 

“Fucking humidity,” she said. “Remind me to drink a gallon of water before I start drinking again.”

She looked up as they made general noises of assent, gazed at them as they offered her nothing more. 

“We doing alright boys?” she said.

“Just a little older than I’d like to be,” Jon said with a smile. “Can’t keep up these days.”

“Hey, if Judge Black can hang, I really don’t think you have an excuse,” Tommy said.

Jon tipped his head back and listened to them softly talking around him till he slipped into sleep. 

He roused with a fuzzy head some time later, the sun filtering in low through the blinds casting golden shadows in the room. He was alone on the couch, but Emily was crouched in front of him. 

“You okay?” she asked. 

Jon nodded. 

“Dinner will be in about half an hour,” she said, biting her lip. 

“Thanks, babe,” he said croakily, and kissed her.

“Your mouth tastes bad,” she said, dropping down fully to her knees and resting her head on his thigh. Jon hummed and threaded his fingers into her hair, petting softly as she closed her eyes.

“You weren’t—“ Emily started, then cleared her throat, eyes clenched tightly shut. “Did you have a good nap?” she finished. 

“I think I’m more tired than before, but I’ll rally,” he said. “You?”

She nodded tightly and let him keep stroking her hair.

“Love you,” he said, tilting his head back against the couch again. It felt good to just sit in the air conditioning with Emily’s steady weight in his lap, to just be.

“Wish Leo was here,” Emily said. 

“I mean, obviously.” Jon said laughing. “Are we too obsessed with our dog?”

“How dare you,” Emily said, giggling. “He is the best dog in the world.”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Jon said. “Hanna might fight you over that.”

Lovett had brought Pundit over when he arrived at Jon’s door with a case of Truly under his arm, so Jon probably should have known then that he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon. Leo had run to the door at his heels and run off through the house with Pundit, leaving Jon and Lovett at the door staring at each other. 

“Sixteen pack?” Jon said. “Do you think we’ll have enough?”

“With your love for shitty, watery booze, honestly who knows,” Lovett said. He had a little bit of a five o’clock shadow, and his curls were an unruly mess on top of his head.

Jon took the case from Lovett gently, set it on the entryway table.

“Hi,” Jon said. 

“Hey,” Lovett said, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He stepped forward and shut the door behind him. Before, Jon would have moved out of his way, or led him into the living room. Instead he just stared at him. 

Lovett was looking up at him through his eyelashes, and at one point that would have been a stupid joke, but it wasn’t anymore. 

“I missed you,” Jon said.

“I saw you—“

“Don’t say I saw you yesterday,” Jon said, boxing Lovett against the door with one hand on either side of his head. “I missed you.”

“Oh,” Lovett said on his breath. He shut his eyes and tipped his head against Jon’s arm.

Jon moved his other hand to the base of Lovett’s neck, threaded his fingers in his curls. 

“When did Ronan leave?” Jon asked, lightly thumbing Lovett’s ear and watching him shudder.

“An—an hour ago,” Lovett said. “Jon.”

“Yeah,” Jon breathed, and kissed him. 

Lovett sighed into Jon’s mouth and opened for him. It hadn’t been this soft, before. Jon had been too caught up in getting to touch Lovett. Now he was just here, pliant, pulling Jon’s body flush against him and rising up on his toes to meet him.

Jon never wanted to stop kissing him, even as he pulled Lovett into the living room he continued to pull him back in, worry at his bottom lip, trace his tongue. 

When they hit the couch he pulled Lovett into his lap, his sweats soft as he caressed his thighs, as Lovett settled heavily against him and threw his arms around his neck.

Lovett leaned his forehead gently against Jon’s, hands on either side of his face. Jon wanted to subsume him. He wanted them to merge. He wanted to stay exactly here, with Jon Lovett’s head pressed to his own, forever.

“I told you not to look at me like that,” Lovett said.

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Jon said, and preened when Lovett laughed. He buried his face in his neck and laughed with him, breathed in his scent, bit him on his shoulder.

After they’d fucked, Lovett had rested his head on Jon’s shoulder and shut his eyes. 

“You know, I’ve got a lot to do before he gets back,” he’d said. “He sent me the manuscript, he wants my notes.”

“Yikes,” Jon said, fingers in the come on Lovett’s belly. “Sounds like quite a project.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta start, probably can’t procrastinate on this one.”

“I mean, you’re in it, right?” Jon asked, hoping his voice didn’t land on sullen but fairly certain it had. “That’ll make it easier.”

“Yeah, the thought of all the shortcomings of my very private relationship becoming public in an almost certain bestseller is really cool and appealing.”

“You know, I am maybe not the person to comment,” Jon said, pulling Lovett’s face up so he could catch his mouth again. “Can we shower?” he asked, nipping at Lovett’s lip. “And I want you to know, I do mean fuck in the shower.”

Lovett had laughed at him, but he’d let himself be pulled to the shower anyway, let Jon order them Postmates, fuck him again after eating, and fallen asleep in his bed.

Dinner was interminable; everyone was tired from the day and hadn’t yet rallied for the night. They ate inside to have a break from the heat, in a big dining room that seemed to echo with disuse. 

Jon flicked aimlessly between Twitter and his text thread with Lovett. The last text just said “Ronan’s gone for the break, I’m coming over.”

Jon had thought about texting him after he’d left, kissing Jon hard in the entryway with Pundit under one arm. He’d thought about texting him as he got to the airport, boarded the plane. 

Just like he had then, he thumbed back over to Twitter and got in a stupid fight instead. 

“Jon,” Emily said, scraping her fork against her plate hard, “take a fucking vacation.”/p> 

He put down his phone. 

“Sorry,” he said. 

No one filled the silence. 

Emily and her mom eventually started talking about one of Emily’s friends from Elementary school who had joined NASA, or written a book on NASA or something. As soon as dinner was finished, Jon volunteered to do the dishes and waived away all help.

Jon knew what infatuation was, he thought, wetting the sponge, pouring the dish soap. But he couldn’t stop yearning like some idiot teenager. He wanted Lovett to be there with them, even just to hear him tell Jon he was being a moron. 

He’d already told him as much in his bed, when Jon started tracing patterns in his chest hair. He’d said “take that look off your face you heteroflexible moron,“ to be precise. But he’d also said, “You have a mouth made for sucking dick,” and “Jesus Christ you’re so gorgeous.”

Lovett had been that way the whole time he was there, half-heartedly trying to put distance between them and what they were doing. “I need to finally start this fucking manuscript,” he whined the morning after he had arrived, while Jon had him pinned to the mattress. “Ronan knows I’m procrastinating.”

“Weird to bring up right now,” Jon had said with a roll of his hips. Lovett whined again but stopped talking.

Ronan did know, was the thing. The first time Ronan called, around noon the day after Lovett had come over, there was no reason for Lovett not to tell him he was at Jon’s. Jon had even said hi, briefly, before Lovett and Pundit had wandered out into the yard to finish the conversation. 

Jon had seen them talk for hours at a time, and he’d seen them have thirty-second conversations when one of them was busy. This time, Lovett had come back sooner than he’d expected, after maybe ten minutes, and immediately pulled Jon’s cock out of his pants. 

“I don’t know how much luck you’re gonna have with that,” Jon had said, as if his dick wasn’t already betraying him by fattening up. 

“I’m feeling pretty lucky,” Lovett had said, and jacked him a few more times before he swallowed Jon’s cock.

The next time Ronan had called, in the evening, Lovett pretended to be on a walk with Pundit and really had talked to him for hours. Jon cleaned the kitchen better than he ever had before, watching Lovett throw a ball for Pundit and Leo in the darkening yard. Their bodies were pretty worn out by the time Lovett said goodbye, so afterward Lovett had let Jon take him to bed and pull him close.

Jon felt a little raw. Lovett had woken up in his arms this morning, and here he was falling asleep in them again tonight. He shoved his knee in between Lovett’s legs, and couldn’t think anything but the word “closer”.

Lovett had groaned but nestled back into Jon’s arms. “I can’t anymore,” he said. “This is just going to be sleeping.”

Jon laughed and tucked his nose into Lovett’s curls. He’d showered earlier, and he smelled like Emily’s shampoo. He rolled his hips against Lovett’s ass, but his dick remained uninterested. “I like that you have that much faith in me,” he said. 

“You have been known to achieve whatever you put your mind to,” Lovett said. He was running his thumb absently along Jon’s arm.

“Not everything,” Jon said.

Lovett must have heard something in his tone, because he fell quiet. 

“I can give you some time tomorrow,” Jon said, “to read the manuscript.”

Lovett’s face scrunched up. “I can’t do that here,” he said. “I’ll go home in the morning, I swear. I just… I’m too tired now.”

Jon kissed the back of his neck. “I want you to stay,” he said, and Lovett hadn’t replied, just squeezed his arm and fallen asleep. 

In the end, Lovett had helped him pack and they’d left Jon’s house at almost the same time the next evening, and Jon stood in his entryway waiting for his Lyft to the airport, watching Lovett bundle Pundit into his car and drive off.

As the sun was setting, Judge Black shepherded them all onto their neighbor’s boat. 

“This is my son-in-law,” he announced to the neighbors with a slap to Jon’s back. Jon forgot their names instantly. “Jon Favreau. He worked for Obama with his friend Tommy over there, and now they run a political media company.”

“Oh wow,” said the wife, pulling her cardigan closer around herself as her husband took them slowly out onto the lake. “Obama, that’s really something.”

Something in the set of her mouth told Jon she hadn’t been an Obama voter, but Emily had told him to take a vacation so he didn’t ask. Over the wife’s shoulder, Emily was laughing at something Tommy was saying. Jon felt a stab of jealousy that he turned around in his head like a foreign object before discarding.

“And starting a company with such a good friend,” the wife was saying, “that’s always got to be nice.”

“Oh yeah,” Judge Black, “Tommy and Jon have something really special going, with their other business partner, Jon Lovett, he’s just so funny, they have such a big following…”

Jon nodded, and complimented their house, which was a monstrosity of a McMansion even this far out. They both preened, and Jon smiled and accepted a beer, even though his head was pounding.

Tommy came to save him then, shaking the neighbors hands and talking to them about sailing and boats like a professional, so Jon wandered over to his wife and kissed her cheek, smiling down at her as she leaned into him.

“Let’s go to the front of the boat,” she said, “my mom keeps hinting that it would be the perfect place for “the kids” as if you guys aren’t pushing forty.”

Jon laughed and let her pull him to the front. The neighbors dropped anchor near a bundle of other boats on the lake, and Jon could see small ground fireworks going off from houses and docks all along the shore through the dusk.

“Oh man,” Emily said. “I’m getting bitten by mosquitoes already I really should not have worn a short dress.” She shoved her toes under Jon’s legs.

“That’s the Californian in you coming out,” Jon said. “Forgetting about bugs.”

“What can I say, I’m a natural!” Emily chirped. “Wait, I forgot my drink.” She hopped up and retrieved it from the boat, leaning to whisper in Hanna’s ear before she returned. She immediately shoved her feet under Jon’s legs again and started jiggling.

“What’s up, babe?” Jon asked, laying a steadying hand on her leg.

“Nothing!” she said. 

“Hasn’t she told you yet?” Hanna said, sliding in next to Emily and slipping an arm around Emily’s waist. “I’m frankly shocked, I don’t even think the interested party expected her to be able to keep the secret.”

“Who,” Jon said. “Tommy?”

Hanna laughed. “No, although—oh hey babe!“ she said, as Tommy sat down next to Jon and handed him a fresh beer.

“Should we tell them?” Emily asked conspiratorially. “I mean… we shouldn’t, right?”

Despite their easy tone, the laugh in their voices, Jon felt a spike of anxiety. “Tell us what?” he took a swig of the beer, even though his stomach was turning. 

Hanna laughed with a hand over her mouth. 

“Babe, I’m going to think about it all night if you don’t tell me,” Jon said.

Emily waved him off. “Not for me to say,” she trilled.

Tommy had his serious face on. “No, honestly, I will too,” he said. “Is it a family thing? Is someone pregnant? Does someone have cancer?”

“No one has cancer, babe,” Hanna said soothingly.

Emily pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, then broke out smiling. “Ok, I’m gonna tell you, but you have to pretend to be surprised and excited when he tells you, ok?”

“Who?” Tommy said, wary.

“Lovett!” Emily chirped. “He called just before we got out here—Ronan proposed! He’s gonna make our little Lovett an honest man—”

“What,” Tommy said. He looked shell-shocked for all of a second before he put his press face on. “Wow. Damn, that’s awesome, they deserve it.”

“It’s so adorable,” Emily said, leaning across Jon to grab Tommy’s arm, “Wait until you hear how he proposed, everyone has a lot to live up to in the romance department—“

She was cut off by the whistle of a firework into the sky. In the space between the flash of red and the bang, Jon heard Emily laugh. He remembered their wedding day, so close to where they were now. How she lit up in the dim light of the dance floor, Lovett, his groomsman, nearby, head on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Wow,” he forced out. “That’s so great.”

“I wonder if Lovett will move to New York,” Emily was saying, though Jon was actively pretending he couldn’t hear her over the fireworks. “He better not, I’d unfortunately have to fucking kill Ronan if he did that to me.”

“Ronan can do his job from anywhere, can’t he?” Hanna was saying. Jon caught Tommy’s eye, and found Tommy was looking at him again with something far too close to pity. 

He couldn’t really stand to look at that, so he put his head back on the seat and let the pounding of the fireworks rock through his body and light up the backs of his eyes. Emily took his hand and squeezed. “Headache?” she asked. He nodded.

Jon imagined being a groomsman, standing up with Lovett at his wedding. He imagined giving a speech like Lovett had, watching Ronan take his hand, kiss him, leave with the promise of a life together.

But did Jon even want a marriage from Lovett? Or did he just want Lovett, in the spaces between their lives, wherever and however he could get him? 

A burst of light, a canon volley of sound, and Emily gasped and grabbed his shoulder. Jon opened his eyes to a burst of golden light, falling like rain. Jon wondered what it would be like to have what he wanted, which was everything, which seemed least likely of all.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Summer Bummer" by Lana del Rey
> 
> Comments much appreciated <3


End file.
